Adventures

Bonks and Bumpy Roads (Day 3)

FLATHEAD RIVER, BC (16 June 2019) By the time I was packed up and was ready to go, everyone else was gone and out of sight. In fact, Bonnie was gone when I awoke predawn to relieve myself. Even though this was consistent with the day before, it felt strange because at home I'm an early riser. It is not uncommon for me to be out riding my bike before dawn and sometimes completing a twenty-five mile bike ride before daylight. In addition, I seldom go to sleep before 11 PM. It's just the way I'm wired which to my mind made me a natural to race the Tour Divide. Racers that do well at the Tour Divide are not all fast cyclists. Being able to race up hills and fly down rocky slopes on your bike is not the determining factor in doing well in the Tour Divide, no matter how one defines doing well. Eventhough I'm no stranger to the podium at mountain bike races, not once did I expect my riding skill or speed to play a major role in suceeding on the tour divide. My homework suggested that there are two things every successful racer of the Tour Divide have in common: 1. A strength of determination and 2. The willingness to trade sleep for miles. Before starting the Tour Divide I figured number 2 would just come naturally because of my longstanding habits. As for number 1, that was perhaps first tested with Koko Claims but was certainly tested again over the days that followed.

It was a relaxing feeling rolling away from the campsite on the gravel road which pitched down toward the Flathead River gently loosing 100 feet of elevation in the process. I knew Justin, Mark and Bonnie were ahead and was hoping for a chance to see them again. Justin hails from Ames, Iowa where I obtained a masters degree, at the time I might have been his age. Now in my 60's I have the luxury of time and enough perspective to know this thing we call a race, the Tour Divide, is best taken as it comes. I decided I won't be chasing anyone down or pushing harder to make time. My rules for bikepacking are simple: Rule #1: Take care of yourself and Rule #2: Take care of your bike. That's all the rules and these have served me well.

It was a lovely morning with good but bumpy climbing and marvelous descents. There was no apparent activity at the Butts Cabin site when I arrived and paused briefly to consume another LARABAR. It was 11 AM when I reached the Wigwam Recreational Site where I filtered water and ate an Egg McMuffin from the day before. The streams run clear and some riders drink the water at the higher elevation without treatment or filtration. I never took such a chance.

It was just before noon when I came upon Justin who informed me Mark was not far ahead. It was a tricky turn of track at the end of a short sharp downhill where Justin had stopped. Talking to Justin and the news of Mark just ahead did cause me to hasten my pace so despite my intent, I was chasing. With Justin's vigor of youth, my sights were set on catching Mark. It's strange how expectations and anticipation makes biking seem more strenuous and even arduous. Time goes by slowly and it seems to take forever before a sign of Mark begins to show. I probably should have stopped to eat some more but I put it off. I probably should have reduced my pace to avoid burning out but I pressed on. Morning became afternoon, lunch needed became lunch delayed and still I persisted. Suddenly all hints of arduousness were instantly replaced by an overwhelming feeling of joy to be riding with Mark again having finally caught up with him not long before a section of the route called "the wall." In all, only half an hour had passed since I saw Justin but it seemed like half the day. If not for Strava, I would have incorrectly remembered this as, the time I spent half a day chasing Mark.

Mark and I had similar riding styles and I looked forward to an afternoon ride with him to Eureka. There were, however, two things in our way, a section of trail called the wall and Galton pass. Just before reaching the wall Justin came up on us from behind and proceeded briskly ahead on a muddy single track, wheels kicking up mud as he deftly navigated his way through the quagmire. Mark and I were not as skilled or energetic and ended up walking parts of the twisting slippery mess. The muddy track lead us to the base of the "the wall" which is so steep some riders choose to take the gear off their bikes, carry that to the top and go back down so that they can push an unladen bicycle up the steep single track. I arrived first and stopped at the base to take a drink and prepare myself for carrying my loaded bicycle up the wall. Mark didn't hesitate, he dismounted and proceeded to push his loaded bike up the loose vertical surface of the trail. I should have waited longer before proceeding because with the bike on my back progress was quick and I soon found my way blocked by Mark wrestling with his bike. I recall vividly panting loudly as I stood waiting for Mark to lift and push his bike up the incline. Maintaining my position on the incline with the weight of the bike on my back required more energy than I had so the bike was gently lowered to the ground. Having not trained wrestling a bike up steep hills, doing so was difficult and slow for me. Fortunately, the wall is not long, approximately 2 to 3 tenths of a mile.

It was heading toward 2 P.M when Mark stopped on an open ridge above the Wigwam River. I polished off my last Egg McMuffin there and drank enough water to know I'd be filtering water one more time before leaving the mountain for the valley, the U.S. and Eureka beyond. Mark wasn't looking great. After lingering a bit he said he was bonking and indicated that I should press on ahead. He had enough food and water he just needed some rest and time for his energy to return. It didn't feel great leaving him there but I felt anxious to get going again. It seemed likely we'd meet again in Eureka or possibly the next day on the route.

It wasn't long after leaving Mark that I stopped to filter water. The climb to Galton Pass had not yet started in earnest when a side road leading to Rabbit Creek provided a great opportunity to get one more liters of fresh mountain water. Sitting on a rock filtering cold rushing water into my liter bottle was never an enjoyable process. There was always some awkwardness balancing myself, the bottle and filter while squeezing away at the bulb all the while fighting the current which continually attempted to push the end of the hose to the surface. Adding to the awkwardness was the presence of bugs certain to win every skirmish with my hands so occupied. After water was filtered I generally felt accomplished as if I just got away with something tricky. That seemed strange because it was such a simple task.

Galton Pass was a good long climb on gravel but will be remembered most for it's downside. As I climbed, thunder clouds rolled in making a lot of noise and causing my skin to recoil. Big cold drops of rain started to fall like bullets from the sky. First one then a few more hit my helmet which added to the percussion music of the thunder. I arrived at the top of the pass before the rain was serious enough to get me wet so without pausing, I quickly dropped to the hot dry land below. The descent from Galton Pass was too rough and quick for my liking in a couple of places. The road is very rough and so steep that when I let go of the brakes, speed increased very rapidly. Twice I braked to a stop just to rest my nerves, hands, and brakes with rotors so hot they might have been glowing. Finally relief came and I enjoyed a relaxed coast down the last portion of the gravel to meet the highway leading to the US border and the town of Eureka just beyond.

Crossing the border was a bit surreal after spending the better part of three days in the wilderness. Besides the border itself with gates, fences and multiple lanes of paved roadway there were people and cars. It wasn't long before I was warmly greeted by the boarder guard who was accustomed to bikepackers entering the U.S. this time of year. After entering I was looking for food and clearly headed for my own bonk. Unfortunately, I thought it was a short flat ride to Eureka as I examined the highway map in my mind. Having studied the route months before I occasionally visualized portions with uncanny inaccuracy. For this reason, I skipped the refueling option at the duty free store at the border and pressed on to Eureka. Instead of the flat direct route to Eureka in my head, the route took a longer, more scenic route with rolling hills and pastoral views. Once again a relatively short distance seemed to take forever because of anticipation and false expectations.

Day 3 Profile

Feeling depleted, I finally arrived at the Eureka Subway. It was fun to see Bonnie there after over 10 hours of riding. She had already eaten and was getting ready for another night of sleeping in the wilderness. My choice at that moment was to get a hotel room even though there was plenty of daylight to spend and only 75 miles behind me on the day. I was unaware at the time that this choice may have saved me from abandoning the Tour Divide.

On to Day 4